


When The Devil Takes Hold

by havvkeyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Dean Winchester, Apocalypse, Archangels, M/M, Season 5 AU, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havvkeyes/pseuds/havvkeyes
Summary: Each True Vessel of an archangel is born with tiny strands of their angel's Grace woven into their DNA. A True Vessel is meant to be more than just a host, they are meant to be angelic themselves, wings and all.When Dean Winchester says 'yes' to Michael, he gets a lot more than he bargained for.





	1. So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> I love Angel!Dean as a concept and I wish the show had explored him saying 'yes' to Michael more than it did. 
> 
> This will probably turn into a rewrite of Season 5 with added complications.

When God created the first of the Heavenly Host, He wove their grace into the very fabric of creation. The essence of the archangels spread across cosmos and dimensions. Tendrils of celestial beings found their way to a select few chosen humans, those who had been ordained "True Vessels" by God himself. In order to ensure that His angels loved what He had created, God intertwined a small piece of them together. This bond was unbreakable. 

So outraged by His Father's blind adoration of humans, Lucifer, the Morning Star, rebelled. In the ensuing war between the archangels, Heaven was very nearly lost. In a bittersweet victory, Michael watched in agony as his brother was confined to the deepest pits of Hell. 

The two brothers, one who was righteous and the other who had fallen, awaited their fate as the eons passed. Another confrontation between them awaited at the end of all creation. The stirrings of the Apocalypse were not felt for millennia. Heaven resumed its tasks of watching over God's creation. The angels, led by Michael, followed the plan that had long ago been outlined by their now absent God. 

In 1979, Michael's True Vessel finally came into being. All of Heaven celebrated the birth of Dean Winchester, who had been chosen by God at the very beginning of creation to be the Righteous Man, the Michael Sword. 

In 1983, Lucifer's True Vessel was brought into the world. Sam Winchester's birth was felt down in even the darkest pits of Hell. From his eternal prison, Lucifer finally stirred. 

 

XXX

 

_“I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up... here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up... here.”_

 

Dean jolted up in bed, his sheets drenched in sweat. He quickly scanned the room, relaxing ever so slightly at the form of his sleeping brother in the other motel bed. Ever since Zachariah had zapped him to the future, Dean had had nightmares of his confrontation with the Devil. Each night his resolve was worn down slightly more. He would never have confessed this to Sam or Cas, but he was actually considering saying yes. If it meant avoiding the Apocalypse, or more importantly, losing Sam to Lucifer, Dean would do pretty much anything. 

Careful as to not wake Sam, Dean quietly slipped from the room. His bare feet padded lightly across the pavement of the parking lot to his awaiting Impala. The black gloss of the car still was eye catching even in the dark of night. Dean felt slightly more at ease with himself as he slipped into the driver’s seat. 

He wasn’t quite ready to hand himself over to the Angel-in-Chief, but he had some questions. 

“Er—Michael? It’s me, Dean Winchester. Listen—I have some questions for you,” his prayer was interrupted by the sudden appearance of man in the passenger seat. 

“Hello, Dean.” The greeting was familiar, but the face was not. The man sitting next to him had dark hair carefully slicked into place. His navy blue suit was neatly pressed. The man looked human—but the alien stillness he possessed gave him away as an angel. 

“Michael?” Dean finally asked after regaining his wits. 

“Apologies for the unfamiliar face. This is your grandfather, Henry,” Michael informed him casually. 

“Hold on a second—I thought you could only posses your True Vessel or whatever cosmic bullshit you angels have been feeding me.” Michael narrowed his eyes at him and for a brief moment Dean wondered whether or not he has crossed a line. Finally, Michael broke the tension by giving Dean a half smile.  

“That is true, mostly. While you and I are linked, your immediate relatives share a tiny fragment as well. It’s not nearly as powerful, nor can it be permanent. Archangels will burn through a vessel if occupied for too long,” Michael said as he inspected the hands of Henry Winchester as if he was noticing them for the first time. 

“So, you still need me then?”

“Yes, Dean. You are still the only way I will be able to fight Lucifer and prevent the Apocalypse.” Michael’s expression turned grim at the thought, and Dean could have sworn he saw a deep, far-off sadness in his eyes. The two sat in silence for several moments, each studying the other. 

“How would it work? I mean, what happens if I say yes? You just hop in the driver’s seat while I tune out?” To his surprise, Michael actually laughed at that. It unsettled Dean even more than the silence. 

“The True Vessel is meant to be more than a ‘meat suit,’ if you will. God linked you and I at the beginning of all creation. Pardon the cliche, but we’re meant to be, Dean.” It’s Dean’s turn to laugh. His chuckles filled the space of his car, echoing throughout. After another glare from Michael, Dean regained his composure and nodded at the archangel to continue. “By you saying yes, you’re not giving me control, Dean. It’s more of a partnership. You would have access to my abilities, my grace. Together, we could defeat Lucifer.”

“So I’d still be me?” Dean piped up, his voice full of hope for the first time in months. 

“Yes, Dean. You would still be you, with some added firepower.” Dean turned the idea over in his head. It was incredibly appealing, and for the first time, stopping the Apocalypse actually seemed realistic. The more he considered it, though, the more it seemed too good to be true. 

“Wait a second, how come I’ve never heard of this before? Cas has never mentioned it, and I don’t think Jimmy is really involved in day to day activities.” Michael seemed to approve of Dean’s line of questioning, running his hand through his hair as he formulates his answer.

“Normal angels like Castiel do not share the same bond with their vessel as the archangels do. God gave each of the four of us a True Vessel and wove our grace into your DNA so that we would be a part of you always. Normal angels inhabit their vessels, the archangels share them.” 

Dean considered this for another moment before opening his mouth to ask for more answers, but Michael raised his hand to silence him. 

“Think about it, Dean. We’re running out of time.”

In an instant, Michael vanished. Dean was alone in his beloved car, wondering what in the world to do next. He sat there for what felt like hours, his mind racing with possibilities and questions. When sleep finally overcame him, his thoughts of archangels and the Devil were blissfully lost. 

 


	2. The End is Here

"Dean?" Dean jolted awake at the sound.

He blinked his eyes for a few seconds to dissipate the blurriness that had overtaken his eyes. When his vision finally cleared, Dean noticed his brother staring at him through the driver's side window. Sam's face was full of concern and questions. Dean had time for neither. Grumbling, he pulled himself out of the car and accepted the coffee in Sam's outstretched hand. Still squinting at the harsh morning light, Dean made his way through the parking lot and into the dingy motel room.

"So, want to explain why you slept in the Impala?" Sam asked as he took a seat on his bed. Dean ignored this, instead taking a large swig of his coffee. "Dean," Sam again tried, this time more impatient.

"I'm sorry I broke curfew Mom, please don't be mad," Dean replied. If sarcasm and snark were a talent, Dean would have gold medals. Sam rolled his eyes, huffing loudly before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine." Sam ran his fingers through his messy head of hair. Dean knew this play all too well; the guilt trip. Next step would be the puppy dog eyes. And right on fucking cue, Sam widens his eyes and focuses them on Dean, as if to say  _"Please big brother?"_ Dean hated when Sam pulled crap like this. They were too old for this shit, and it somehow still worked every fucking time. 

"Jesus," Dean said, exasperation dripping from his voice. "Fine, I couldn't sleep so I went for a drive, okay? I must've fallen asleep when I got back. Is that illegal now?" 

Sam rolled his eyes but seemed to accept the lie. Dean heaved a sigh of relief when Sam mumbled something about needing a shower and stepped into the bathroom. Now alone once again, Dean began to mull over the conversation with Michael. It all sounded too good to be true. He needed a second opinion. Was it worth dragging Cas into all this? He likely wouldn't take it well, but Dean figured at this point they were running out of options. The end was nigh, right? 

Dean figured that for now, this was a conversation best had without Sam. He quickly scribbled a note about running to get food for the two of them and left it on the nightstand. Dean grabbed his keys and dashed out the door to his Impala. He loved to drive whenever he needed to think. The open road was better than a licensed psychiatrist, of that, Dean was sure. 

After driving along the main road for a few miles, Dean spotted a park and decided to pull in. Dean knew lots of things about Castiel, one of them being that the angel was particularly fond of the outdoors. Dean figured that the beautiful view might soften the hard questions Dean knew that he had to ask. 

He wandered around for a few minutes, smiling at the scene of a few children screaming as they spring around the playground. Dean finally settled on a park bench that overlooked a small babbling brook. This was damn peaceful, it looked like something that belonged on a postcard. "Welcome to Anywheresville, USA, where you can enjoy your final days in peace!"

Dean chuckled to himself. He was funny. More people should notice that. 

Dean took a deep breath before closing his eyes tightly. " _Cas, if you can hear me buddy, I really need to talk to you."_

"Hello, Dean."

Dean opened his eyes to find the trench coat wearing angel seated next to him on the bench. Castiel isn't looking at him, instead he is focused on the stream before him. A serene smile fell across Castiel's face.

"You called?" He finally mumbled, the smile not fading. 

"Yeah," Dean began, suddenly feeling sheepish. He paused, trying to formulate what to say next. Suddenly, this all felt too real. Dean feared what Castiel would say. Castiel must have sensed Dean's uneasiness, because he turns to face him. Two pure blue eyes stared at him, and Dean once again lost his words. 

"Is everything alright, Dean?" The angel asked. Dean doesn't know how to answer that, because obviously things are going to hell. Literally. 

"Uh, not really."

Castiel continued to stare, encouraging Dean to finish his thought. Dean turned his head, breaking the intense staring contest the two of them were currently having.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh. He needed to just spit it out already and he knew it. 

"I, uh, I talked to Michael last night." Castiel didn't say anything, clearly he was waiting for Dean to say more. "I asked him what happens if I said yes."

"You what?!"

Dean had seen Castiel lose his cool only a handful of times. Apparently, this was going to be one of them. Castiel stood up abruptly and moved so that he was standing directly in front of Dean. He grabbed Dean by the fabric of his shirt and pulled him up so that the two of them were looking at each other eye to eye.  

"What on Earth were you thinking?" Dean could hear the rage dripping from Castiel's rough voice. It made him want to hang his head in shame. He hadn't realized that Cas would have taken it so poorly. 

"I just thought we needed to have as much information as possible," Dean offered. Once it comes out of his mouth, it doesn't feel like a good enough explanation. 

"I think you're a lot of things, Dean. But I never realized a coward was one of them."

 _Now wait just a fucking second, that's crossing a fucking line,_ Dean thought angrily. He opened his mouth to shoot back some kind of sharp reply, but Castiel beat him to it. 

"You're just going to run away to Michael? What about Sam? What about--" Castiel didn't finish the sentence. Dean knew that he was going to say " _What about me?"_ He felt bad now, he truly did. He hadn't thought of it like that. Dean looked down at the ground, he could no longer bear to look Cas in the eyes. Castiel's hands were still balled up in the fabric of Dean's shirt. 

"Cas," Dean mumbled hoarsely. "I'd be doing this for you and Sam." Castiel huffed at that. Dean could feel how he had stiffened. 

"We'd lose you, Dean. You'd be surrendering yourself and we may never get you back."

"Actually, that's not true." 

"What?" Castiel asked, dropping his hands from Dean's shirt in surprise. Dean smoothed out his clothes before continuing. 

"Michael said its much more a joint operation than handing over the controls entirely."

Castiel blinked at him, his rage having subsided into confusion instead. 

"Michael said that the Archangels and their vessels are different than normal angels," Dean explained. "He said I'd still be me, just with angel juice." 

Castiel's frown remained, but he looked slightly less troubled than he had before. He began to pace in front of Dean, clearly trying to make sense of this new information. Dean watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction. 

"I need to do more research."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel was already gone. Sighing loudly, Dean made his way back to his car. This was going to be a long fucking day. 


End file.
